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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580813">you were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvancexLizzie/pseuds/EvancexLizzie'>EvancexLizzie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>one single thread of gold tied me to you - ushisaku week [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Day 7, Getting Back Together, M/M, Post-Time Skip, UshiSaku Week 2020, they're in love but they're dumb, this is getting a fluffy sequel i swear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:03:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,052</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvancexLizzie/pseuds/EvancexLizzie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ushisaku week - day 7 (angst)</p>
<p>He hears him again, his voice reaching from behind. In a way, it feels more distant.</p>
<p>“...You’re not going to ask why?”</p>
<p>Ushijima doesn't turn around. “Would it change anything?” he answers sternly, throwing a tee-shirt in his bag with more force than necessary.</p>
<p>There's a deafening silence. To Ushijima's ears, it sounds like defeat.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>one single thread of gold tied me to you - ushisaku week [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>UshiSakuWeek 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>YES GUYS I KNOW </p>
<p>i FINALLY finished it, using the nanowrimo challenge for that. </p>
<p>this is also a gift for ushisaku day, and the ushisaku server bc even if i don't engage a lot, im always reading and laughing!</p>
<p>thanks again to iggy for beta-reading that, you're a treasure and i don't deserve you</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Their breakup is </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> a mirror to what their relationship was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quiet, without a fuss. But highly unexpected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We should break up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima looks over his shoulder. His heart skipped a beat when he heard him, and now it races loudly, painfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sakusa isn’t one to make his presence known. It’s always been like that and Ushijima is used to it, mostly because he’s always noticed him despite all his attempts to make himself disappear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For as long as he’s known Sakusa, he’s always seen him be silent and unnoticable, hiding in the comfort of a too-large hoodie and the shadow of a corner. And yet, Ushijima always looked at him keenly, and always thought he belonged there, among them. No matter what he did, Sakusa never looked out of place. No matter the efforts he put into removing himself from the scenery, Ushijima’s lingering gaze always found him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As a result, even if Ushijima didn’t hear him step inside the kitchen, he shouldn’t have been surprised to hear his voice. He used to know when Sakusa stood behind or beside him, silent but unwavering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima looks at him, a pan in one hand and a spoon in the other. He looks at his longtime boyfriend who has his hands buried inside his kangaroo pocket and his shoulders crunched by the weight of his characteristic uneasiness. He looks at that piercing, undescribable obsidian gaze embed in his and that mouth constricted in a thin displeased line.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waits for something, anything, but it never comes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, when he will replay every second of those long, indefinite minutes in his head, Ushijima will consider himself foolish to not have done anything about it, to just have remained a spectator of his own undoing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right now though, during those long, stretching seconds where they both stare at each other and only hear the sound of fried eggs burning in the pan, Ushijima processes the heavy meaning behind the words and the displeasing taste that lingers at the back of his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel them, the words that want to leave his throat, the questions he wants to blurt out, the meanings he wants to unveil. They itch, they irritate, they linger; but they don’t come out. They die there, without a chance to prove themselves on the battlefield of turmoil, and only a shaky breath slides on his tongue and gets out of his dried throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What is there to say, anyway, if Sakusa doesn't want him around? What is there to defend, when your boyfriend looks at you as if you were a stranger and behaves as if you already no longer belong in his kitchen?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Ushijima doesn’t put up a fight. In the haze of his surprise and shock, he somehow composes himself, his gaze hesitant and drifting behind Sakusa, and he barely nods before leaving the pan and the spoon on the counter. Slowly, so slowly, he bypasses the dark-haired man and heads to thei- -no, to Sakusa’s bedroom-, expression unreadable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the heavy silence that has filled the apartment since Sakusa spoke, Ushijima hears footsteps behind him. Unexpectedly -or maybe it was expected, Ushijima doesn’t pretend to know anymore-, Sakusa follows. He feels the intense gaze lingering on his back, he feels his presence, quiet and steady, which he’s been accustomed to for many years. Ushijima never had to look behind him to know where Sakusa stood, he simply sensed it. Today isn’t anything new in that regard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sakusa stops at the bedroom door, his gaze still burning on Ushijima's back. Ushijima takes his sports bag from under the bed and goes to the wardrobe to pick the few clothes he’s left there since Kiyoomi moved into this new place. He fills it mechanically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears him again, his voice reaching from behind. In a way, it feels more distant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...You’re not going to ask why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima doesn't turn around. “Would it change anything?” he answers sternly, throwing a tee-shirt in his bag with more force than necessary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a deafening silence. To Ushijima’s ears, it sounds like defeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the bedside table, Ushijima takes his alarm clock but leaves the picture of them together that was taken during the spring tournament, back in high school. They’re standing next to each other, on the side of a volleyball court. Ushijima has his arms folded against his chest, Sakusa has his hands thrown in the pockets of his jersey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The memory of that day still lingers in Ushijima’s mind as if it was yesterday. Tendou had taken this picture, pointing out it would make a good memory. Later on that day, Ushijima had confessed to him. Months ago, Sakusa had found this picture in the depths of his computer and framed it in secret before offering it to his boyfriend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima tears his eyes away from the picture. He takes another few things and stands up shortly after. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he leaves the bedroom, he bypasses Sakusa and avoids his cloudy gaze, doesn’t dawdle on his perfect features. He needs to stay focused, not hesitate, not wonder what would happen if he just turned around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's useless anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On his way to the main door, he can still feel the complicated, indescribable stare burning a hole between his shoulder blades, anchoring itself into his skin. It stings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have a safe flight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wishes it was flat and devoid of any emotion. He wishes he couldn't hear the lingering shakiness. He wishes it could bear unwavering resolve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wishes Sakusa would blurt out what he truly wanted to say instead of that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Ushijima simply answers, stubbornly facing the door.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand grips the handle, opens the door, and closes it behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaves Sakusa’s apartment and comes back to his, still processing what just happened. His mind can’t quite formulate the words that were just said, or rather the absence of any confrontation or explanation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quiet and without a fuss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Still unexpected.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>###</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The day after, he takes his flight to Poland. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the airport, he is alone. He said goodbye to some old teammates from Shiratorizawa and the Alders over the last weeks but didn't ask for anyone to accompany him. None of them offered anyway. They must have thought Sakusa would be the one by his side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, Ushijima thought the same. He imagined Sakusa Kiyoomi would be sitting next to him on the plastic red chairs and staying until he's called and there's no possibility of a delay anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he’s alone, only gifted with his sandwich and headphones for company.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so Ushijima takes his flight to Poland, leaving Japan for several months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In this new country, he realizes he's all alone. He realizes he wasn’t so used to loneliness, since his middle school days. Since he found the Shiratorizawa High school team or rather since those boys found him. Since he met the germaphobe spiker with dark hair and darker eyes who set his sights on him one day and never left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He never thought much of it because Sakusa was quietness in itself. It’s being alone that makes Wakatoshi realize how they used to spend all their time together, so much he certainly considered it given. The days exchanging messages, articles, and pictures. The week-ends working on dog-sitting or helping the nearby store deliveries so he could buy train tickets for Tokyo. The sheer will to win any match, knowing it would bring him closer to find each other’s comfort and to fight against each other for several days during nationals, to secretly hold hands and to watch videos with his head leaning on the other’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe that's why Sakusa Kiyoomi left him, he thinks as he arrives in his hotel room -he still hasn’t found a place to stay. Maybe they were too quiet, too similar. Maybe it was boring. Ushijima had said several times that spending time with him wasn’t that interesting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just thought Sakusa liked that, the nice feeling of completion on a Friday night where they were both busy reading a book, sat on his couch while their hands travelled over the other's hair or skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it worked for a time, before Sakusa realized the world was wide enough to meet more interesting, more challenging people.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima loathes himself for indulging in such self-deprecating thoughts that are highly unusual. He blames it on the sudden loneliness and emptiness that comes with brutal change and the switch of scenery. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, Tendou's calls are there to help him soothe away the negative feelings that engorge his thoughts, unknown and terrifying. Their calls are easier now that they're both in the same time zone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tendou calls for the first time one day after Ushijima's landing. As usual, he asks question after question and barely lets him answer, pressing him about the wonders of Polish food -” </span>
  <em>
    <span>the pierogis are amazing, Wakatoshi-kun”-</span>
  </em>
  <span>, or the brutal change of climate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, Ushijima tells him about the break-up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why didn't you say anything?" Tendou asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't have anything to say." Ushijima answers as he unfolds his clothes and puts his weights beside his bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You should have asked him why at least, Wakatoshi-kun. It's pretty weird to have someone break-up with you without any reason.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima shrugs. It's not like he's been through a lot of break-ups. Sakusa was his first boyfriend. He thought he would be his last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It wouldn't have changed anything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, you would have known why at least." He takes a brief pause. "Were you afraid of what the reason could be?" Tendou asks, blunt as usual, and Ushijima doesn't answer. "Afraid to know there's nothing that can be done."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"... I already know that. Kiyoomi only makes thought-through decisions and he must have had his reasons." And no, he doesn't want to know them. It wouldn't make him feel better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think you'd be surprised to know how stupid people are when they're afraid. You put too much faith in his rationality.” Tendou asserts. “You know, my housemates made me watch an English movie recently and one of the characters says something like “We’re all fools in love”, and maybe it applies to your situation here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sakusa has never been a fool.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tendou,” Ushijima waits until he’s done to speak again. “It was the right thing to do." He isn’t certain who he’s trying to convince here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't think that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What I think doesn't matter." </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wasn't the one who took the decision.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears Tendou loudly sigh on the other side of the phone. "Anyway, you're here now and you have to focus on volleyball! Have you already met your teammates? You have to send me pictures! I might come to visit as soon as I can. You don’t have any excuse to answer my messages now!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima is thankful for Tendou for switching subjects as they both know there’s nothing more to say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>###</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Getting used to Poland and Polish is tough. Even though he studied the language and customs before departing, he still has a hard time acclimating to his new surroundings, his new teammates, his new life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he's learned not to complain, and to always feel lucky. So he doesn't say anything and just works harder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the jet lag, he gets to facetime with Goshiki, Shirabu, Reon, and Semi. One time, he confesses that he misses Japanese rice. Three weeks later, there's a rice delivery hanging on his door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's the luckiest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One day he sits in front of the TV and watches a volleyball match from the Japanese V League. He doesn't know why does this to himself. He's not in denial enough to make himself believe it’s just to watch his old teammates play. No, he thoroughly admits he misses him so much that he can't help but watch him on TV, just to catch a glimpse of his face and ensure he’s doing fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The camera zooms on Sakusa during a short break. Seeing the taped fingers, highly unusual for the opposite hitter, Ushijima's eyebrows furrow. Then, Atsumu Miya enters the camera field, a shit grin on his face. One of his hands rests on Sakusa's shoulder while he lifts the other in the air. Sakusa looks at him briefly before slapping the palm of the hand with his own, indulging in his high five.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima remembers a time where he was the only one allowed to be this close. The only one allowed to touch and cherish those hands. The only one who could tape his fingers diligently while they were sitting on a bench in a corner of the gymnasium.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembers the first time he asked Sakusa if he’d like to have his fingers taped. They were middle schoolers, sitting away from the court during the Spring tournament. Sakusa had his hands carefully shoved in his jacket’s pockets, a deep frown on his face. Ushijima had noticed the many bathroom tours Sakusa had undergone over the last hours, and he couldn’t help but worry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had fumbled with his bag for a second and sorted out a roll of new, still packed tape. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Would you want to try it?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” “</span>
  <em>
    <span>...I’ve never taped my fingers before.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I can show you how to do it if it’s ok with you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kiyoomi gauged him for an instant, gaze hovering between Wakatoshi’s face and tape, but he reluctantly removed his hands off his pockets and presented them to the opposite hitter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wakatoshi shuts off the TV shortly after and goes to bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sleep doesn't come, letting memories haunt him for the rest of the night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>###</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's in the past. Still, somehow it lingers in the present.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At night he still dreams of ravishing Kiyoomi's body. He dreams of their first encounter, of their first kiss, of the first time he was allowed to cherish those hands and worship this body. A distant memory blurred around the edges, that still haunts as vividly as if it were yesterday.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes weeks to realize Kiyoomi will not be by his side when he wakes up. Weeks to stop buying too much food and stop preparing breakfast for two. Weeks for his clothes to stop smelling like sanitizer and fresh lemon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One time, he crosses the street and smells someone with the same cologne. He immediately turns around, still perfectly knowing he won’t be there, and the blatant irrationality of his behavior makes him so dizzy he has to stop for a moment to exhale, eyes closed in defeat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why did he turn around today and not three months ago? The question haunts him until Tendou's next call.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wakatoshi-kun, guess who I met today?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lately, Ushijima has been so busy he barely had time to look at the news. But he did see this morning that the MSBY Black Jackal had an exhibition match settled in Paris this week.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima's silence speaks for itself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I went to the exhibition match and,” Tendou goes on, fully knowing they both know. “We bumped into each other outside of the gymnasium. I was surprised he recognized me at all, I didn't think he had his eyes set on anyone else but you every time we were going to nationals." Ushijima furrows his eyebrows. "You know, he did ask me how you were doing. He seemed pretty shy about it, but he did it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"... And what did you answer?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That he should ask you directly if he was so concerned about your well-being."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tendou-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He misses you, Wakatoshi-kun." Tendou cuts him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did he tell you that?" He loathes himself immediately for trying his best to not sound too hopeful but majestically failing. As if hope has never left him to begin with, as if they could go back together one day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He didn't have to, you can peeeeerfectly see how miserable he is."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima has a flash. Miya touching his hands, taping his fingers, brushing his skin. Maybe lingering to the touch, maybe longing to kiss those fingers, maybe secretly doing so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if he could miss him. As if he could regret it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He doesn't look miserable on TV." Ushijima answers, dry. Almost vulnerable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So you do watch his matches."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima hates that tone, hates that Tendou is right. It’s been three months and he can’t think of anything else or yearn for anyone else. Sakusa Kiyoomi has taken his heart and his mind and he’s left only with a terrible ache and pulsing cavity inside his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima ends the call a few minutes later, and he stays there, staring emptily at his phone. Then, slowly, he turns his head to look over the shoulder. There’s nothing behind him, no one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wishes Sakusa was there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>###</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Days turn into weeks that turn into months. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima mostly focuses on volleyball. He loses himself in the daily routine, the morning jog, the training at the gymnasium, the practice matches and the official ones. He gets used to traveling around Europe, discovering a whole new culture, and a whole bunch of new players who don’t stop surprising him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t know when exactly he stops making breakfast for two, or waiting for more clothes to launch a laundry. It’s almost painfully natural, how the new environment prevents him from thinking about it too much. He’s getting used to loneliness, used to not have a comforting presence beside him anymore, to not turn around and have him step inside the apartment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They never lived together, strictly speaking. Their different paths prevented them from that. But they still managed to find each other, as brief as those moments were, and Ushijima often found himself staying at Kiyoomi’s place when he was still a university student, or when the volleyball season was over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had never expressly talked about officially living together, but Ushijima believed it was inherent to their relationship. They weren’t supposed to need words or proper discussions. They always managed without, their thoughts always going along with each other’s, transforming into silent agreements and nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima never considered it could be weird, but maybe it is. Maybe it’s weird, to be so similar that neither of them had to raise his voice once, or get angry, or show any sign of frustration. Or maybe Kiyoomi did all those things and Ushijima didn’t see it, blatantly ignored the problems, and went along until it exploded into his face, thunder hitting a tree and splitting it with tremendous force and pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Ushijima wonders at night, in his bed, where the daily routine can’t follow and his mind starts working again. He helplessly stares at the ceiling, one arm behind his head and the other resting on his chest, and he remembers. He remembers as much as he can, has every little moment going through his head, searching for the smallest hint, the slightest detail that could have escaped him months, years ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The process proves itself to be bittersweet, exhausting, and useless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, his memory lingers on sweet, old fragments of what seems so far away. He closes his eyes and pictures Sakusa. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re younger, coyer. They’re on cleaning duty, Ushijima pulls the volleyball cart inside the storage room while Sakusa has his hands filled with the nets. He watches the dark-haired opposite hitter put them accordingly on the shelves, and prepares to return to the gymnasium. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima’s body acts before his mind can process. It’s sudden, surprising, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bold</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He gently grabs Sakusa’s wrist. Sakusa turns over to look at him, the characteristic frown appearing and instantly disappearing as soon as his eyes meet Wakatoshi’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their bodies come close together, like magnets, and Ushijima kisses him, a mere peck on the lips that wants itself gentle and sweet. However, as he decides to step back, Sakusa locks his hand against Ushijima’s neck and kisses him once again, less shyly and more fervently. Ushijima yanks him against the wall, near the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t know for how long they go on like this, fervently ravishing each other’s mouths and having their hands trailing on their chests, weirdly enough prudishly keeping it over their sweaty uniforms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A familiar voice coming from nearby catches them by surprise, “Have you seen Ushijima-kun or Sakusa-kun? We’re supposed to pack up but I can’t find them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both of them freeze and Ushijima yanks himself backward, stumbling on his feet in the process and catching the nearest thing available to try to stay standing. Unfortunately, his hand finds nothing better than the hem of Sakusa’s shirt, bringing the other boy with him in his fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both land on the floor, Ushijima’s ass first and Sakusa on top of him, arms stretched on each side of the Shiratorizawa student’s head so as to not fall completely on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They take a few seconds to come back to their senses and calm their panting breaths, staring at each other with a mix of yearning and desire, something bold and undescribable that was different from what they felt before. However, they don’t do anything about it, and just get up quickly before anyone arrives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re here.” Ushijima says, loud enough for their coach to hear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they come out to meet their coach, he can swear Sakusa’s faintly blushing, the fading pink contrasting with his usual paleness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima lays there, inside his small apartment in Poland, and he sighs, the consequent weight on his stomach not leaving for the least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In reality, he’s still stuck to square one, having made absolutely no progress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thinks about him, he dreams of him, he remembers him. Of stolen kisses behind a fireproof door during training camps, of lingering hands and brushing mouths, of a head resting against his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Days evolve into weeks that evolve into months. In spite of that, Ushijima has long given up the idea of forgetting him. There’s always too much food, and no one else to eat it with him, but it doesn’t matter, because cooking for one isn’t something he can do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>### </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The year goes by fast enough, and the Olympics are around the corner before Ushijima can fully understand it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It will be his first time back in Japan after eight months. He didn’t come home for Christmas, since his mother was spending it with her family. His father came from the USA to visit him for a few days after New Year’s Eve. They spent a long time going around the city and exploring the countryside a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How's Sakusa-kun?" His father casually asked while they were hiking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know," Ushijima answered, because it was the truth. "We're not together anymore."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt his father's stare linger on his face, searching for an eye-contact he was purposely being denied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully enough, his father didn't ask for details, and they went on silently admiring the landscape.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before going back to Japan for the Olympics, Ushijima flies to Paris to see Tendou. They still haven’t been able to see each other in spite of living on the same continent, and have an interview scheduled for Japanese TV about their friendship and their current careers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tendou insists on picking him up from the airport. He welcomes Ushijima with a sign that certainly says "Welcome Ushijima" in French, and brings them back to his place before going outside for dinner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, it's a little small but very French, you'll see."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tendou talks for the most part and Ushijima listens intently. Tendou always has something interesting to say and he’s been used to silently devour his words. He catches himself smiling thinking about that old dynamic that somehow resurfaces as soon as they get together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s nice, seeing Tendou again. Tendou has always been a comforting presence, an unshakable pillar in his life. He's proud to call him his best friend because there would be no better word to depict their relationship.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima spends the day afterward alone because Tendou needs to work. He shows him the nearest subway station, buys him tickets for the day, and gives him a little map of the city before seeing him off with a handwave and a "Good Luck Wakatoshi-kun, don't get lost."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, watching Tendou's wicked smile and creased eyes, Ushijima wonders if there's a trap within the city.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paris is a small city compared to Tokyo but it feels nice and the weather is warm. He goes to the most touristic places, starting with the Eiffel Tower, getting to the Louvre, and crossing bridges to see the isle that sits within the city. He takes pictures and sends them to the Schweiden Adlers Alumni WhastApp group. They ask him to bring back croissants and gifts.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tendou finishes his shift during the middle of the afternoon and they take a walk near the Seine. He tells him about his job, French people and the many things there are to do in Paris. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s nice, so nice to have Tendou again, to hear him talk and smile and laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wakatoshi-kun, look!” It’s so nice, hearing him calling his name. He watches the bateau-mouche go through the huge river. "Next time you come for holidays, we'll go on that boat!!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima nods, a thin smile forming on his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the evening, they go to a very chic café near the Opéra Garnier where they are interviewed for the documentary. Wakatoshi prides himself in calling Tendou his best friend out loud and they discuss several topics regarding their paths of career. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Afterward, they stay at the cafe for a few drinks. Ushijima sticks to juices and water while Tendou orders one beer after another, the flow of his words rising with the increasing number of alcoholic drinks invading his body and blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He prides himself on showing Wakatoshi how good he can speak French and orders all their rounds in French. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Une autre pinte s’il vous plait.” Tendou says, with an accent that only gets heavier as the night passes by. He looks at Ushijima, waiting for him to repeat the words he’s just taught him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Un jus d’orange, s’il vous plait.” It’s weird, really weird. The waiter asks him to repeat. Tendou laughs. Ushijima almost smiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima doesn’t bring up </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> topic, because he absolutely doesn’t want to talk about it, even if it’s been lurking over him for the past few days. However, he does wonder why Tendou still hasn’t brought it up. He thought he was going to talk about it the first chance he would get. After all, Tendou has never been one to hold back a comment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it’s not as if he wanted to speak about it, not at all. It’s not as if he was utterly lost in the sea of his own messy thoughts, thinking something and then it’s exact contrary, wondering all the time how he was going to react when he’ll see him again. It’s not as if he was unconsciously waiting for advice, waiting for someone to just tell him what was going on, why he couldn’t just give up, and stop this masquerade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wakatoshi-kun?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima looks up to cross stares with Tendou, raising unconsciously an eyebrow, the sound of his name bringing him back to Earth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tendou titles his head to the right, watching him with his big, impressive eyes. Ushijima has never felt more scrutinized than he is under Tendou’s strange, captivating stare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, flying back to Japan tomorrow, huh?” Tendou says shortly after, not shifting his stare for the least. “Are you nervous about the Olympics?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really,” Ushijima answers, a little too fast to be fully earnest. He grabs his drink and takes a sip, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. He knows he’s doing a terrible job at that, because he’s never been a good liar, and he would hate to be one. “This is going to be promising.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw that Tooru-kun joined the Argentinian line-up! It’s pretty cool, going against old rivals.” Tendou says in the tone of the conversation. He clearly does a better job at that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I look forward to that encounter.” Ushijima answers, and somehow his mind is already drifting elsewhere, eyes slightly losing focus again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"... You don't wanna talk about it?" Tendou’s words prevent him from falling again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a small silence. Ushijima’s hands come to rest on his thighs, his body stiffening against his will. His mouth distorts ever so slightly into a pout, eyebrows frowning while he thinks about the adequate, most honest answer he can give.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, the words that come out of his mouths are nothing more than the same sound that’s been on repeat for the last months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whether we talk about it won't change anything." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tendou sighs, heavily. Ushijima slightly bows his head in defeat, the idea of disappointing his best friend unbearable.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It’ll do no good to only think like that, Wakatoshi-kun.” The same answer, over and over. But what more can he add? “You can't live your life running away from explanations or talks because you think it won't change the situation. Life doesn't work like that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But that's the truth." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not everything has to be purely practical or immediately useful,” Tendou says, sounding gentle and caring as if he was addressing a younger sibling. “You're saying that talking about it won't change anything but it's been almost a year and you're still not over him. So, yeah, not talking about it doesn’t seem to change anything either.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's not-" Ushijima interrupts himself because he knows Tendou is right. His fists crisp in distress. He keeps his head high to face Tendou. "I just need more time."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tendou rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s so unusual, seeing you run from something instead of facing it head first, Wakatoshi-kun. It ain’t like you at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima opens his mouth, eyes wide. He finds nothing to answer, once again. The words are hanging upon his head, crushing him with defeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm not saying it will solve everything, but you need to understand what happened that day, and you can’t do that by just ignoring all the questions that are hanging in your head. You’re just making your life a living hell by searching for answers but not asking them first.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"... Still, it won't change Kiy- Sakusa's decision." Ushijima says after a time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tendou’s eyebrows frown slightly for a moment as he stares into Ushijima’s soul, before relaxing again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So the only thing that really matters-” When Tendou thinks he has the answer between his hands, he singsongs his sentences. “-is whether Kiyoomi-kun is willing to get back with you or not? You don’t wanna get over it, Wakatoshi-kun, you just want him back.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows. He should have known. The words don’t act like a punch in the stomach or like thunder hitting him. It’s quieter, the truth unfolding in front of him, the only thing being that he already knew. He never stopped loving him, yearning for him, wishing he could just hear his voice and touch his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He misses him so much, every day, every hour passing by without him to stand by his side, without him to stand behind, quiet and fervent, silent and unyielding, unnoticed by everyone but him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima didn’t need Tendou to say it because he knew it. He may have needed Tendou to say it just so he could stop running from the truth laid bare in front of him, his raw feelings he’s been trying to suppress in vain getting out of hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hands are shaking faintly. His eyes wander to his drink, his head bows in defeat. He’s been a coward, a man not worthy of anything to begin with. His younger self would laugh at him. His younger self, who one day gathered his courage and went to find Sakusa Kiyoomi at the exit of a bathroom and straight out said. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I like you. I really do like you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” His younger self, who’s braved up every challenge coming on their way to just be able to keep touching his skin and whisper words to his ears. To keep saying “I like you” until it unfolded into “I love you”. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Since when has he transformed into such a coward? Since when did he stop voicing out what he wanted and just thought speaking had no purpose whatsoever? How presumptuous was he to think they didn’t need words between them when all he’s ever laid bare in front of Kiyoomi was words and sentences. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to keep playing with you. I want us to stay together. I want to live with you. I want to marry you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’s never said any of those things, simply expected Kiyoomi to understand them through their daily routine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You just love him so much." Hearing Tendou's softening voice, Ushijima raises his eyes and meets his gaze once again. He can feel his eyes crease in pain, his mouth twist in pain, his hands shake in fear. “It was almost insufferable for us back in high school, the way you were looking at each other, and how you just kept talking about him during lunch. You'd get pocket money on week-ends guarding your neighbors' children just to pay for your train ticket. Getting you two to be together took enough time as it was.” Ushijima remembers the insistent stares of Tendou and Reon when Sakusa was passing by, their wry smile and amused expressions. “But you were the happiest man, and well, Kiyoomi-kun did seem happy." There's a small pause. "How can you not fight for what you had, Wakatoshi-kun?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima thinks about this day for the umpteenth time. It still feels as if it was yesterday, Kiyoomi’s stare drilling a hole onto his back while he was just walking around the house and gathering his stuff.  He remembers that he never watched Kiyoomi's face, never questioned him, never said he still loved him. He just took his bag and left, not asking, not insisting, not fighting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wakatoshi-kun?” Ushijima raises his eyes and meets Tendou’s soft gaze. He wears a thin, appeasing smile on his lips. “It’s gonna be ok, you’ll see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Ushijima nods. They don’t talk about it further.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>###</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They hug and Ushijima takes his flight for Tokyo the next day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the way to the airport, Ushijima looks at his phone. They have a WhatsApp chat for their team, and everyone coming back from outside Japan shares pictures of their flights and the little memories they're bringing back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima posts a picture of Paris' airport, as well as the small Eiffel Tower miniatures and bags of chocolate he bought at the store where Tendou works. Several teammates react with GIFs and excited comments. His stomach crunches at each notification, each new message appearing in the conversation, in fear or expectation it might be Kiyoomi answering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's never the case as Sakusa doesn’t answer or speak once. It’s not all that surprising, considering Sakusa’s character and how quickly the conversation has gotten out of control. Still, Ushijima doesn’t know if he feels relief or disappointment. He doesn’t know if he expected a sign, an answer, or reaction, or if he feared it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The question lays unanswered in his mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lands in Japan a few weeks before the official beginning of the Olympics. While several people offered to welcome him into their home -Goshiki first, arguing on the Shiratorizawa alumni group chat that his home was already more a QG for Shiratorizawa alumni than his place anyway-, Ushijima still decided to pay for a hotel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Ushijima is finally sitting on his bed, his smallest suitcase undone and his shower taken, he gathers his courage and clicks on Sakusa’s contact info on his phone. The phone number is still registered under </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kiyoomi </span>
  </em>
  <span>and the mere act of reading it makes his heart ache. He can still remember the last time he actually said it, or more whispered it to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can still remember how he didn’t call him that day, when he should have.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few minutes of staring emptily at their last conversation, something random like buying milk on his way back to the gym </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>-he misses those conversations, he misses how ordinary and comfortable it was-</span>
  <em>
    <span>, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ushijima starts typing out something before deleting it. He starts again, and again, and again until he lets out a frustrated sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels like going back to square one. To those days in the dorms, where he asked for advice to Tendou on how to not sound too rude by messages. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Wakatoshi-kun, just be yourself! You’re falling for someone rude anyway so I don’t think he’ll mind!”. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tendou couldn’t have been more right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima shakes his head and types out again, eyebrows frown. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Good evening. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>I hope you are well. I just landed in Tokyo, would you be free tomorrow evening?</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For one tiny second, he wonders if he should sign it, in case of Sakusa having deleted his phone number. But he dismisses the thought quickly enough to not dwell on it and its possible consequences, and sends the message.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaves his phone on the bed and goes out to the nearest konbini to buy his diner. When he comes back, Sakusa has answered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Hello.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Did you make a good trip?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Yes, I’m free. 7.30pm at the apartment.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Reading the message, Ushijima exhales relief. He wasn’t aware of how tense he’s been, unconsciously fearing a refusal or, worse, a lack of answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would only be fair, considering how he was the one who refused the confrontation last time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They exchange a few more messages, all polite and asking about their current whereabouts and what they expect from the Olympics. It’s nice, to have that casual conversation with someone he’s missed so much, and when it’s time to go to bed, laying on the mattress in the dark with the moonlight reflecting on his sheets, he just yearns for more. If it weren’t for his strict and healthy routine, and the fact he knows Kiyoomi has always been an early sleeper, he would pick up his phone and start typing again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He drifts to sleep thinking about dark hair and darker eyes, hunched shoulders and pretty features, coral lips and delicate hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima has never been late in his life, and he makes sure to not start doing that today. As such, he’s ten minutes early when he sees the too-familiar avenue leading to Sakusa’s building. Nothing much has changed over the year, but he does notice the fresh paint at the entrance gate. Sakusa spent too many minutes complaining about that to not notice the change.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he stops in front of the door, he exhales slowly. His heart churns in his chest and his next breath gets caught in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he raises his hand and presses the doorbell, apprehension devouring his insides and invading his thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears the sound echoing through the other side of the door. A few, long, stretching seconds later, Kiyoomi opens and Ushijima’s eyes widen minutely in awe at the breathtaking sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kiyoomi hasn’t changed much physically. His hair is a little shorter. But that’s not what takes his breath away. No. It’s his mere presence in front of Ushijima. It makes him realize how lovestruck he still is for the dark-haired boy who stole his heart a long time ago with his raven eyes and his powerful spikes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All possible doubts Ushijima could have had on his way there disappeared the second Kiyoomi opened this door and, realizing he was once again within his reach, Ushijima understands he never wanted to let go of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s been foolish, all this time, all so foolish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” Sakusa greets him politely and makes room so Ushijima can step inside the apartment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing much has changed. He notices that the bunch of frames that were previously hanging on the wall empty for months have finally been filled with pictures. There's one with Komori, one with the whole Itachimaya team, and one with the Black Jackals.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima doesn't appear anywhere on this wall. He didn't expect to. It still hurts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He goes straight to the bathroom that stands at the end of the corridor to wash his hands. When he gets out, he realizes the bedroom's door on his right is opened enough to see what lays inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima knows better than to barge into a space that isn't his anymore, so he just stands there and takes a look at the place he's missed so much for the past months, the place he'd been calling home for a long time and until not so long ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the bedside table, the framed picture of their younger selves standing beside each other still stands proudly. He can still remember this day, the feeling of his fingers itching and only asking to cross the distance between him and Sakusa so he could hold his hand. Back then, he would have given up everything to get the right to hold those fingers forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima frowns when he notices that the plant usually standing behind the frame isn't there anymore, but a voice reaches from behind before he has the time to even wonder why.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I moved the plant to the living room if you want to see it." Ushijima turns his head around and looks at Sakusa. "But you didn't come here solely to make sure I didn't kill it." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, Ushijima stares and his gaze doesn't waver. He thinks about what Tendou said to him, thinks about all those nights laying around and wishing it would have gone differently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has the opportunity to rewind, to atone for his mistakes, to understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so, Ushijima, without detaching his gaze from Sakusa's face, engulfing his eyes into those raven mesmerizing eyes, turns his body to face him head-on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Today is the day he doesn't run away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did you break up with me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sakusa’s eyebrows flinch, almost imperceptibly, expression unreadable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence fills the room for a few seconds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would it change anything, if you knew why?” The dark-haired man finally answers, voice dry, sounding almost accusatory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Ushijima says, gaze unwavering and voice steady. “It will change whether or not I decide to give up on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sakusa wasn’t expecting this. His expression breaks down for a moment, all carefulness shattered, and his eyes widen, his lips quiver, his mouth falls open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima wants nothing more than to close the gap between them and cuddle him, soothe him and comfort him. It hurts physically, to see him like this, always so composed, ever so composed, not giving emotions away apart from disgust and suspicion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just thought you'd be better off without me." Sakusa </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathes</span>
  </em>
  <span> a few seconds after, barely audible, and it sounds like a confession, a relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima blinks, genuinely confused, and tilts his head to the right. "Why did you think that?" He sounds lost, unsure he’s heard the right thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sakusa shrugs. Ushijima sees this gesture as defeat. "You were moving to another country. I just didn't want you to get stuck with me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...Did I ever give that impression to you?" Ushijima wonders, mouth tight. He just doesn’t get it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A little over a year ago, he was thinking about proposing to Kiyoomi. A year ago, he woke up earlier to go one his usual morning run and his eyes glanced towards the other side of the bed, towards </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> hands, his slender fingers. A year ago, he thought for the first time that a ring would perfectly fit there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Four months later, Sakusa was breaking up with him.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It has nothing to do with something you did or said." Kiyoomi sternly answers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"... I don't understand." Ushijima feels the weight of his own feelings hanging on his shoulders, all tension and tiredness building upon his body. "We've spent the most part of our relationship being apart." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And aren't you tired of it?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why should I?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima stares at him, questions spinning in his mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why does it have to be about me when you’re the one who broke up with me? What did I do to make you feel like you didn’t matter anymore? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll never be tired of you, Kiyoomi. If…” Ushijima swallows before speaking again. “I understand if you are tired of us being apart, not living together, not evolving in the same country anymore...” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A flashback brings him back to twelve months ago, to the day Ushijima accepted to move to Poland for the year. How it had felt normal, to not have discussed it thoroughly with Sakusa before accepting because he knew they had that silent agreement, about never backing down from the great possibilities their careers could offer because of their relationship, about not holding the other back from achieving his dreams. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A flashback to their kitchen, to when Ushijima announced it to Sakusa, or rather to his back. And Sakusa, not turning around to face him, offering him only his dark curls and hunched shoulders to look at, saying “Congratulations”, before disappearing into his bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A flashback to later, of them, laying at night, of Kiuoomi’s body wrapped around his, torso pressing against his back, arms clinging around his waist, a leg thrown over his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish I could have seen it. I wish you could have told me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's never understood that Sakusa was tired of this. Tired of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...But I still love you, and it’s enough if you still love me.” Ushijima continues, gaze unwavering. “I’m not saying that it’s always enough,” Even before they broke up, he would miss his presence more often than not, feel his absence like half of his heart was missing, the other half throbbing for it. He would miss the quiet, unwavering presence that always stood by his side and had his back. He had been upset, sad and aching about missing him, long before they parted for those nine months. That separation had only deepened that void inside him. “But I know that I can go on because you’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Since the day he turned his head to his left and found that dark-haired young boy standing at the entrance of the men’s bathrooms, Ushijima has never felt alone in his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing Kiyoomi’s body shaking, tremors running through his shoulders and spreading to every fiber of his body, Ushijima takes a step towards him, and another one, until he stands in front of Kiyoomi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"... I didn’t want you to leave.” Kiyoomi confesses, words heavy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... I know.” He’s finally understood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I knew you had to, and I wanted you to.” He stops, for a second. “...My words don’t make any sense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s ok. I understand.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... I just wish I could be as accommodating as you, Wakatoshi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima lifts one of his eyebrows. “Letting me depart for the other side of the world was pretty accommodating of you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kiyoomi’s eyebrows furrow. “I didn’t. I broke up with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t break up with me because I was leaving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gently and without much hesitation, Ushijima lifts his hand to touch Kiyoomi’s cheek. He strokes the skin gently, savoring the feeling he’s missed dearly and Kiyoomi leans to the touch, watching him intently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish you could have said something.” Kiyoomi says after a time. “I wish you could have turned around, and said you loved me. It sounds childish, but I wanted you to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Am I too late?” Ushijima whispers. A flashback of Miya touching him, invading his personal space, grinning at him; and anxiety rises in his chest. Kiyoomi closes his eyes, closing the space between their heads to have their foreheads touch, and his hand comes to cover Ushijima’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, of course not.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima hears the smile, the sweetness. He hears home, waves crashing against the shore, a feeling of completitude spreading through his chest. His other arm encircles Kiyoomi’s waist, bringing him as close as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ushijima leans and kisses him. He takes the time to taste his lips, worship his skin, hear his whispers again and again and again, and it feels oddly familiar, it feels as if he’s never left to begin with, as if he hasn’t spent the last months in exile, away from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes Sakusa’s fingers between his and raises them to his mouth, diligently caressing them, fervently kissing them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s found his way back to his home, and he’s never leaving again. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much for reading !! </p>
<p>i really wanted to take the time to thank everyone who's been supporting me through this well of a week ! it was a real challenge</p>
<p>ushisaku deserve the world. there's a direct sequel coming, dunno when but im saying it there so you can all harass me into finishing it quickly</p>
<p>as usual, kudos and comments are always really appreciated, they helped me finishing this week in the first place so !</p></blockquote></div></div>
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